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star wars: luke skywalker

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Who:Han Solo and YOUR FACE
When: throughout the month of May
Where: aboard the Moira unless otherwise noted
What: for all your miscellaneous threading needs! will probably post some specific starters, but feel free to hit him up with basically anything.
Warnings: currently n/a; will warn in threads / update as needed

Though going home is Han's number one priority, he's not sure a temporary trip (if that's even for real) is worth the risk. So while he'll get into his share of trouble, he's sticking around on the Moira a fair amount. Plenty to do.

He keeps up with his work running one of the transporters as needed, and can frequently be found between trips on the flight deck. Sometimes he's poking at his shuttle of choice, but just as often he can be found in or around the Millennium Falcon. Loath as he was to risk spreading whatever contamination they've all contracted onto his pride and joy, there's only so much waiting a man can take. (Play your cards right and maybe you'll get a tour, he likes to show off.)

The mess hall, the bar, and the cafe are all frequent enough haunts. Hell of a lot better than being stuck for months with instant caf and freeze-dried rations. As far as space travel goes, this is straight up luxury.

Otherwise, he'll be around, here and there.

---

[ closed starters below! ]

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[It's different. He can't quite explain why it's different. There's just more; a whole other family, a world he can't touch or comprehend. Everyone here but Han and Lando and the bounty hunter is wrapped up in the damn Force, and yeah, he resents it, even knowing he shouldn't. It's a well known fact that he's a scoundrel, it can't come as a surprise.

At least, with any luck, she'll be able to tell he's sorry.]

Well, she's good at sharing.

[He tugs lightly on her hand, aiming to bring her closer.]

[Hearing him try might help her, but knowing that it seems to be--for whatever reason--is probably enough. Han's a little jealous, just as she'd said to Luke a few hours ago. Even if she thinks it's ridiculous, she wants him to be confident that she cares as much for him as her current pursuits.]

One of us has to be.

[Leia lets herself be tugged forward, until she's tilting her head a little more to look up at him and she can slip her other arm around his waist easily enough.]

Next time, I'll reschedule with Luke. Okay?

[At least if they have to fight, they get the consolation of it being really nice to make up afterward. He stoops a little awkwardly to kiss her forehead.]

Next time I'll try not to ask you to.

[It's only not a promise because he knows he's an idiot sometimes. She's here now. Would have been here sooner, probably, if he could have been patient, but patience never was his strong point. He ran out what he had to spare waiting for her in the first place.]

You want to come aboard?

[He nods back at the ship. Truth is he's not so anxious to fly as he is to get the two of them some privacy.]

[She hears the uncertainty in a statement like that. I'll try. But she doesn't mind. Better the truth than a promise he can't keep.

It suits her better this way, anyway. Nobody has to apologize aloud--the words aren't necessary when they both already know.]

All right. [She glances back toward the Falcon, grinning.] You didn't open her up without me, did you?

[For a career criminal and inveterate liar, he tries to be honest with her surprisingly often. Making the admission that he's probably going to be unreasonable isn't exactly flattering, but it's true.]

I had to load some cargo, [he admits, nodding toward the freight lift up front.] But that's all, I haven't been through.

[He's been skulking around taking things apart for no reason to work out his frustrations. Like an adult. He shifts, looping his arm around her in turn so they can walk side by side up the boarding ramp.]

[And truth is all she really wants, even when it's unflattering. Besides, the knowledge that he's waited to look through the rest of the Falcon speaks much, much better of him.

(Leia thinks so, anyway. Maybe it's not romantic to anyone else, but she knows how much Han loves this damn ship. It can't have been easy to sit on top of it in a funk rather than hole up in the cockpit.)]

We'd better see what they've done to her. [A teasing little smile as they start up into the ship. Time to contaminate a poor, defenseless freighter.] Last time I saw her, she was in good shape, but it seems a little convenient that they'd give you a way off the Moira without doing a number on her.

Edited 2016-05-14 00:17 (UTC)

[There was a minute there when he was deeply tempted to just hop in and head into space, but the truth is the Falcon is hard to handle without a copilot. It would have been more frustration than it was worth, so instead he'd given in to tinkering.

On the bright side it means several of the sensor arrays have been checked, and the exhaust vents are in better shape than they've been in years. If she'd left him to stew much longer, who knows? Maybe he might've cleaned it off.]

Even the Falcon won't be much use in intergalactic space, [he says, not as darkly as he might if he didn't have her leaned up against him. But he's suspicious, too, glancing around them, alert to anything out of place.]

For all they know, we'd stick with this galaxy and find somewhere new to live. [It's not actually going to happen, obviously, but it could.] Either they're putting us on a longer leash than we thought, or...

[Speaking ill of Han's beloved ship doesn't seem like a good way to turn the conversation. She shrugs, letting the sentence trail off, as they wander through the ship. Everything looks the same to her, but if they've done anything to it, it probably wasn't a cosmetic change.]

It looks about the same as it did when Chewie and Lando went looking for you.

[It's an odd, uncomfortable thought, imagining everything that happened after he was frozen. Time marching on. Chewie going after him is no surprise-- technically he'd be honor-bound to do it even if he didn't want to-- but Lando taking it up is something he wouldn't have expected, though these days things are different enough between them that he gets it.]

We'll have to take it out, check the motivator, but it looks good.

[And then they get to fly blind in hyperspace. Maybe they don't need to have done anything to the ship; that's a bad enough idea that even Han is kinda nervous about it.

For now, though... He slides his hand up her back to rub her shoulder. At least, if they have to fight, it means they get to make up after.]

Do you want to do that now?

[A word to the wise, Han: the answer is not yes. It might be later or soon, but it isn't c'mon, sweetheart, let's take this bucket for a spin.]

[While he's got a natural talent for saying the absolute wrong thing in almost any situation, right now Han has nothing of the sort in mind.]

Not even a little,

[he murmurs, leaning in to kiss her.]

[Good answer.

She stretches up to meet his mouth, a little flutter of anticipation in her stomach. After months of taking advantage of dark corners and empty rooms, the prospect of actual, uninterruptible privacy is thrilling. Surely the possibility of discovery should be the more exciting of the options--but she's grown weary of it, and she's longed to have Han to herself since Cloud City.

And here they are, safe and whole and entirely alone. It only took a year and two months, and she'd wait through it again if she had to.]

Maybe we should check the cockpit--make sure everything's where it should be. [A breathless murmur, once they've paused for breath.]

[Right now it feels ridiculous that they could have argued at all, much less over something as small as an hour when they've both been waiting so long. They've stolen a few moments here and there, curled up cozily in the Moira's ridiculous bunks, but here they're on familiar ground and don't have to keep an eye out for interruptions. Being able to shut the world out a little while is exactly what he needed.

He'd take his time here kissing her (this, he thinks, he will never get tired of) but her eagerness makes him grin.]

Not the bunks?

[The cockpit's probably more comfortable, though there's the slim chance of someone spotting them through the windshield if they're particularly unlucky, or the voyeur is particularly determined. It doesn't seem likely, though, certainly not likely enough to bother him.

Either way, he shifts his grasp to her hand to lead her through the rounded corridor, not out of any necessity-- after their long, slow ride to Bespin, she's as at home here as he is-- but because he still likes having the right to be a little clingy.]

[They've got untold weeks (months? please, not years) to take their time; the Falcon isn't going anywhere, and the Moira is only going places in the slowest way possible. Another time, they can drag things out--gladly, she'll acquiesce--but right now, she wants nothing less than all of him at once.]

After those egg beds? [She laughs a little, all breath.] I don't know if I can go back.

[There's a project to fill the time when Leia's getting familiar with the Force: refit the ship with a bunk wide enough for them to lie side by side comfortably.]

Besides, [said with a teasing little smile and a squeeze to his hand as he draws her along] you must have missed the cockpit.

[The prospect of being stuck here indefinitely doesn't seem nearly so bad right now. Being stuck anywhere is far more tolerable when he's stuck with her, especially with that look in her eyes. He chuckles a little under his breath-- okay, she's got a point about the berths here, not that he'll admit to it aloud. They could drag the padding out and cozy up one of the empty holds, but the alternative suits him just fine.]

I think you missed it, [he counters, pretty obviously delighted by the prospect as he opens the cabin door. The view of the flight deck is not as spectacular as the open stars, but everything looks to be in order.]

Of course I did.

[She doesn't mind admitting it, especially in private. It's simple fact that the two of them have learned to make excellent use of the limited space the Falcon offers. Who wouldn't daydream about it?]

But not as much as I've missed you.

[It's the sort of sentiment that always seems to put a smile on his face, not that she needs any help in that department right now. Tempted as she is to nudge him towards his chair, she doesn't quite yet; the temptation to pull him down for another kiss instead is too great. The two of them and the Falcon, and an empty schedule for the rest of the day--things are about as perfect as they get.]

[Even if he's already got a smile on his face, that definitely pulls it a little wider. Less because of his feelings about the ship (though he loves his ship) than because it conjures up the surprisingly lovely memories of their long trip to Cloud City. The Falcon has always been comfortable, but it could have felt confining, if they hadn't been getting along so very well at the time.

Letting himself be drawn down, this time he does linger a little more, lifting her chin with his curled knuckle. It's harder to pin down for him, how long it's been-- his time in hibernation is difficult to account for-- but it's definitely been too long.]

Well now you're not getting rid of me.

[And that's his cue to drag her toward the chair, to pull her down with him, still grinning like a fool.]

[Leia settles onto his lap, just as she would even if he wasn't tugging her hand--but with him there, she lets herself be drawn down. He's still taller, even sitting, but not by nearly so much, and so much more of him seems within reach when he's pinned by her (admittedly unsubstantial) weight.]

You think I want to get rid of you? [She grins, a hand already splayed over his chest. (The other one might still be holding his. They've had a little time together, sure, in unused corners of the Moira, but she's missed this private, casual intimacy enough not to want to let go quite yet.)] I'm going to have to do something about that.

[Like stretching up, just a bit, to kiss him. Decidedly not the kind of kiss that says at some point, I'm going to throw you over.]

[Like this it's pretty damn hard to imagine her giving him the boot. Really, it's kind of maddening; even in the midst of arguing with her, even at the angriest, he doesn't want to see her go. This, though, is much nicer. Maybe someday they'll get the hang of it, grow out of their bickering. If not she's worth fighting to keep, absolutely, even if it means fighting with her now and then.

He leans into that kiss with a soft, approving hum, giving her fingers a little squeeze, his other arm curled around her. It's probably for the best that she didn't just push back her meditating, because he'd hate to have her thinking she needed to be anywhere else right now.

Eventually, though, he pulls back enough to look at her, that faint wonder writ across his features. He is, he knows, a lucky guy, and he ought to say something about it. What he wants to say is simple enough, it just never (still!) feels quite right. Maybe it's funny how hopeless he is when it comes to being intentionally romantic.]

What I said before... [he starts, slowly. Maybe she's not ready to hear it again? No, this seems like a good time. A better time at least.]

[She's ready to dive into all of this--kissing him, pulling at his shirt, absolutely ruining his hair--but he pauses, and the way he looks at her, they could be the only two people in the galaxy. It's the sort of look that she can't bring herself to disturb. All she can do is stare back up at him and wonder just how lucky they were to find each other, and find each other again, when all the odds were against them.]

Yes?

[They said a lot of things to each other, admittedly. Most of them were pretty terrible. But the one thing she's hoping he's thinking of--that was all right.

And it'd be better if he said it now.]

[Part of him wondered if maybe the keep it to yourself still held, because he doesn't feel any less selfish about it now than he did a few hours ago. Loving her is inherently, gloriously selfish, and he doesn't give a damn about it. This, though, is a better moment-- wrapped up in the easier moment, making up instead of pulling apart-- and really, why shouldn't he? Thanks to arguing, it won't be the first time, and he doesn't plan for it to be the last.]

I love you,

[he says softly, because her gaze is asking for it, because he can, because of course he does, and somehow even just saying it aloud twists his mouth into a stupid smile.]

[She's known for so long that to hear it now nearly makes her want to laugh. They could go the rest of their lives without ever saying it, and she'd still feel it every time he looked at her. Every time she remembered those last moments together on Cloud City, when he looked at her with the knowledge that he might never see anything again. That he was willing to give his life for hers, that he wanted the last thing he saw to be her face--that alone was enough.

After everything, it seems almost unnecessary to voice it.

Almost.]

I know.

[There's no other answer but that--that and the kiss he deserved back on Bespin, when he was given carbonite instead.]

[Somehow that's the only answer, the perfect answer. He couldn't have said it on Bespin-- couldn't, though it was just as obvious then as it is now, as it has been since Hoth, since before that. It had meant everything for her to say it, but saying it back just then would have been too much. It would have cracked the fragile calm of the moment, and all of them needed to maintain it if any of them were to get out alive.

But here they are, out of danger for the moment, with no reason to keep it to themselves. His grin widens a little at her response, just for a flash before her lips meet his, and then there's no need for words at all; the way he holds her close says volumes.]

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